A Country Masquerade

by Margaret McGaffey Fisk

  A sigh of disappointment from his sister proved he’d been right to intervene, and he had no intention of giving up.

  “I have reports to go over in the morning, a happening already begun from the longcase clock in the hallway. Since I’m homeward bound, it seems foolish to make the trip twice. Besides, Isabella raised some interest this night. Best let it grow in her absence.”

  A spark returned to Isabella at that statement when he’d despaired of her recovering any energy as wane as she appeared.

  “Listen to him, Mother. Why else would he be so driven to seek out one he’s never spoken to before?”

  He didn’t need to correct her words as they had not, indeed, spoken during the encounter in the park, but he did give her a glower in response to the teasing.

  She only laced her arm through his and turned toward where their host and hostess held court to speak their goodbyes.

  Lady St. Vincent let out a long-suffering sigh before engaging his other arm and giving in.

  At least the return to gaiety meant no chance of questions about Isabella’s stamina, something their mother needed to consider when she pressed so hard that Isabella paled in strain. Clearly his sister still needed him at her side, the presence of their mother notwithstanding. And if remaining would ensure he’d be able to confront his lady of mystery the sooner for it, he could not complain.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Despite her father’s threat, by the time the carriage pulled away from the town house, night had passed into the early morning hours. Exhausted by the feverish packing on top of an emotional day, both Sarah and Barbara soon nodded off.

  “We’re here, my lady.”

  The coachman’s warning call woke Barbara from a deep sleep. She blinked to clear her vision, giving Sarah a wan smile as the smooth rhythm of movement ended when the horses pulled up to a sizable farmhouse.

  “Oh, but no one shall be awake,” Barbara said as she realized the sun had yet to reach its full height.

  “Not to worry, my lady. This here’s a working farm. There’ll be many about for the midday meal. Their day began long ago.” The footman lowered the step and put out a hand to help her and a drowsy Sarah down.

  Though it had been a handful of years since she’d had the chance to visit, Barbara now remembered they did keep country hours, and that meant up with the sun to make the most of the natural light. Balls and theatrical events running almost until the first rays of sunlight streaked the sky would be unheard of here.

  Sure enough, not just her uncle but all four of her cousins came pouring out of the house, her father having sent a rider ahead the previous day.

  “Barbara, welcome to my home,” her uncle said, his somber expression giving evidence of more in the message than a simple announcement of intent.

  Still, the girls showed no such restraint as they rushed forward to hug and greet both her and Sarah.

  “Cousin Barbara, it’s been too long.”

  “Much too long. And Sarah, we’d hoped you would accompany our cousin.”

  “We’ve been awaiting your arrival since yesterday.”

  “Come on in out of the sun. It must have been a tiring ride.”

  They spoke all at once, leaving Barbara no time to comprehend Charlotte’s command until her oldest cousin finished by taking her arm and pulling her forward. She had a vague impression of Marian, the next oldest, catching Sarah, with Jane and Georgiana left to trail after.

  Soon, all six of them were settled at the wood block table in the warm kitchen as Charlotte directed their cook to make tea and bring over the rolls left from the morning meal. Uncle Ferrier had taken himself off to do whatever it was he had to, freeing Barbara of his censure so she could enjoy her cousins wholeheartedly.

  “You must tell us of London,” Marian said, kneeling on the bench across from Barbara and leaning forward to rest her chin on crossed arms. “Charlotte never speaks of her season, and we have no other to plague. If only the Pendletons were blessed with daughters, we might have been invited up to the manor, but with a son, there were no balls, and Father didn’t let us go to the other activities.”

  The long trip was enough to slow her mind, but Barbara came fully awake at the name. “The Pendletons have an estate nearby?”

  “Oh yes,” her cousin continued, unaware of the tension her comment had provoked. “Lord Pendleton took up residence with his new bride just last year, though the family visited rarely before then.”

  “Now, Marian, what have I told you about gossip,” Charlotte said, putting an end to the font of information with Barbara in possession of only enough to vex.

  She had been sent from London and thought herself finally free of reminders only to find this the very home of Aubrey’s best friend.

  “They’ve been all but hermits there, though much doings at the estate beforehand and after. And the new minister and his wife are said to be related,” Jane took up where her older sister had left off.

  Charlotte sent a measured gaze at the girl, and she also quieted, but Barbara took some relief in this extra bit of knowledge. If they’d been secluded, there was no reason to expect that to change now. Nor had she any reason to think Aubrey would quit London during the season either, not with his own interests and those of his sister.

  The questions continued, and though Charlotte added none to the pile, neither did she categorize the doings of London folk as gossip to be quashed. Barbara told them what she could and left some questions to Sarah to answer. When she was allowed to pause, she savored the fresh baked bread and a strong cup of tea.

  A smile curled her lips unbidden as the open honesty of her cousins worked its way beneath her constraints. Her attempt to keep up both the rules of convention and then the appearance of frivolity when in London had exhausted her. Not that Lord Aubrey had seemed to notice.

  She pushed her renewed irritation aside.

  Here, she had no need to pretend to be anything other than she was, and Uncle had been known to look the other way should she need to stretch her legs, something unheard of in London.

  Despite her best efforts, a yawn broke across her face, soon mirrored by Sarah.

  “Would you look at the two of you? I’m guessing you haven’t seen this side of noon in an age. London hours are all about the night, are they not?” Jane gave them a wink with her question, and Barbara saw no need to take offense at the teasing.

  Charlotte stood up and swept their plates away. “More likely they have been traveling all night to get here even if they made good time with the roads free of farm traffic in the late hours. Used to London hours or not, it’s wearing on a body. “Marian, Georgie, finish clearing up here so Cook can ready luncheon for Father and the farm hands. Jane, let’s show our dear friends to the guestroom. You’ll both feel so much better after a nap. We’ll have time to visit later.”

  Everyone, Sarah and Barbara included, recognized a command when they heard one.

  BARBARA WOKE UP STARVING TO discover she’d slept the day through from the sunrise painting the sky.

  “The sleepy one has woken,” a voice called from the doorway, revealed to be Marian when she stepped inside. “Your season must have been exhausting from how soundly you’ve slept. You didn’t even wake up for dinner.”

  “I surely feel the lack now.” Her stomach rumbled as though in agreement, and she glanced around for Sarah.

  “Can you not dress yourself?”

  Marian’s tone held a mix of wonder and contempt that sat unhappily in Barbara’s ears, but she dismissed it, determined not to let her visit become corrupted as her season had. “You’d have a time of it too with fashions as they are and so many layers, but no. I just wondered where she was. She’s always been the one to wake me.”

  Her cousin gave a pitying look. “We don’t stand on such ceremony here, as you should remember. Sarah’s like a member of the family. She’s played with all of us a time or two, and we’ll not have her thrust in a servant’s role when it’s not necessary.”
>
  “She’ll enjoy that. In London she had duties that extended beyond my care despite being more of a friend than solely my maid.”

  Jane poked her head around the doorframe just in time to hear the last comment. She burst into a fit of laughter and took a moment to get under control, at which point she gasped out, “You think friends and family free from duties? It’s no wonder your father thought you needed a clearer understanding of how most live. We all have chores. And you will be helping us with them.”

  Barbara colored at the knowledge that more than just her uncle knew why she’d been sent down from London, but as to the rest, she gave a shrug. “I don’t know how much use I’ll be around the farm, but I’m happy to do my share.”

  “That’s the attitude,” Charlotte said, joining them, “But words are easy, and you’re still abed. I brought you an older dress of mine.” She lifted one arm to indicate the clothing thrown over it. “From what Sarah has been telling us, none of what you packed will suit. I suppose you have little need for rough clothes as you sweep from ball to ball, but it would be a pity to have them spoiled.”

  Not wanting to appear resistant, Barbara stepped free of her covers to take the simple dress and hold it against her light nightgown. She’d grown accustomed to just Sarah attending her in the mornings, and she had no brothers or sisters to crowd in before she’d risen.

  Ever vigilant, Charlotte recognized the problem before Barbara said a word. She ushered the others out. “Just because we have visitors doesn’t mean the cows are to be neglected. Barbara will join us as soon as she’s ready. You can find us in the kitchen,” she called over her shoulder.

  Barbara took a deep breath, happy to be on her own at last, though she missed Sarah’s company in the morning. It seemed her friend had taken the previous day to find her footing in this busy household while Barbara had wasted the time asleep.

  Her stomach rumbled again, speeding her through the process of divesting herself of the nightgown and pulling the dress over her shoulders. The top had no corset to bind, and simple laces held it closed without the restraint of the posture board she normally suffered.

  She spun in a circle, letting the soft, un-embroidered cloth swirl around her until it settled against her legs. Her cousins might be more used to this life than she was, but they most likely were unaware of the benefits to it despite chores she felt sure would stretch both her energy and her talents. Perhaps it was the deep sleep, or maybe the country air, but Barbara felt more refreshed than she’d been for a long while. She intended to enjoy every moment of the feeling.

  CHAPTER TEN

  A week passed in which Aubrey faithfully escorted his sister to every possible event, even urging them on when his mother showed signs of tiring and Isabella begged for a quiet night at home. He’d almost had a rebellion on his hands this very night, with his sister claiming blisters, but since she’d yet to dance with any of the gentlemen their mother introduced her to beyond the night he’d first sought Lady Barbara, he called her out on the lie.

  With their mother gone for a powder while they stood on the sidelines of yet another dance floor, Isabella leaned over to whisper, “You could always ask after her.”

  He didn’t bother to protest, knowing neither of the women with him would believe him any more than he’d accepted tales of blisters.

  “Or just listen in to the gossip. Someone’s sure to know if she’s fallen ill or run off with one of her many suitors.”

  She laughed then, and he turned a sour look on his sister even though he recognized her animation just might gain her the attention she deserved as it had that one night.

  Just then, Sir Willoughby came upon them, shooting a pointed look at Aubrey for an introduction.

  “Willoughby,” Aubrey said, happy to oblige. “Have you met my sister Lady Isabella?”

  The young man bowed over Isabella’s hand as he murmured, “I haven’t had the pleasure.”

  Though he’d clearly expected a reply, Isabella only looked at him for a moment in uncomfortable silence before dropping her gaze to her now-twisted fingers.

  Aubrey wanted to chastise her, but knew it would only make the situation worse.

  After an awkward silence, Willoughby shrugged. “I believe I’m wanted in the card room.” With a perfunctory bow and a murmured farewell, he took himself off to save her the embarrassment.

  Isabella held up a hand to stave off Aubrey’s words. “Don’t. If I could be like Lady Barbara, all smiles and laughter, I would be. But anything my tongue let slip would only have condemned me further.”

  Though he hadn’t planned to scold her, Aubrey worried she’d never have a chance with how withdrawn she became the moment someone approached, but whatever he tried had little effect except to worsen his sister’s condition. If he could have changed that, he would have. Instead, he could only hope someone would see past her retiring behavior to the lively person behind.

  “Ah, your most fervent admirer approaches.”

  Aubrey turned to look, startled out of his thoughts at the bitter tinge to his sister’s words.

  “Lady Isabella. Lord Aubrey. There you are. I had concerns you would not attend.”

  Having done the bare minimum to acknowledge his sister, Lady Emily turned ever so slightly so her side faced Isabella, and her full attention fell on Aubrey. The girl had become quite the nuisance, and he did not appreciate how she treated his sister, but he’d had as little success discouraging Lady Emily as encouraging Isabella.

  Rather than shrinking away as she usually did, though, Isabella moved closer to him and raised her chin as if readying for battle. “We were just talking about how strange it is we haven’t seen the Lady Barbara for a full week.”

  Aubrey could have groaned at the words, his fascination with the lady in question something he’d intended to keep private.

  Lady Emily looked between the two then returned her gaze to him, a pout making her lower lip fuller in a way some might find attractive. To him, it only showed her petulant nature. “I had not thought you caught up in the fascination with that girl. Surely she has enough admirers to show it a waste.”

  He forced a relaxed shrug. “Perhaps she’s accepted one of them and so no longer has to display herself on the marriage mart.”

  Lady Emily laughed then, a high-pitched titter that grated on his nerves. “Not that I have heard. Word is her parents sent her out to the country. Perhaps it’s an indiscretion, and she’ll be absent a full nine months.”

  “Oh, surely not,” Isabella said, breaking into what had become a private conversation. “She’s been nothing but proper. I won’t believe it of her.”

  Though his encounter with Lady Barbara held little of proper behavior, he was inclined to agree with his sister. Nothing in her flashing eyes or the way she firmed her lips before charging off matched with one making dalliances on the side.

  He’d examined every aspect of their one meeting at length, remembering details he had not known he’d noticed at the time.

  She’d been full of indignation, of rage, though for what cause he could not imagine. And now, it seemed, he had little hope of discovering an answer. Whatever the reason for her exit from London, she had avoided his inquiries with as much success as her efforts to keep apart on the bridle path.

  His mind wandered, as it often did, but now he became aware Lady Emily had continued to cast aspersions on Lady Barbara, most likely in a misguided attempt to dissuade his interest. However, Isabella had stepped into the gap with a fierce defense of this woman she knew only by reputation, and her voice had climbed high enough to draw attention.

  “Lady Emily, I think you had best move on,” he said, his tone coated in ice. “My sister finds malicious gossip repugnant, as do I.”

  She gaped at him for a moment, clearly having lost herself in the attempt to slander another. She paled, then a blush tinged her features a deep red, the transition so rapid he half-feared she’d faint dead away, leaving him to deal with the results.

>   But Lady Emily released a forceful, “Well, I never,” spun on her heel, and marched away with military precision.

  Aubrey stared after her, bemused. Had he known the direct approach would prove so effective, he would have used it long ago.

  Isabella let loose a peal of laughter that again drew looks, some from young gentlemen, and not in condemnation. They were as fatigued by the bland nature of most debutantes as he had become. If only Isabella didn’t wither the moment she noticed the attention, her color fading and her whole being seeming to become smaller.

  A sigh dragged from Aubrey at the observation. Not that he wanted his little sister to become as forward as Lady Emily and foist herself off on those who show no interest, but she had to try at least.

  As though she read his thoughts, Isabella tugged his sleeve. “You have your answer now, and more. Could we not return home early tonight? I grow weary of all this affectation.”

  Aubrey could not but agree with her assessment if not her wish.

  In all the season, only one of the female sort had caught his attention, and she had taken herself out of the running by means of quitting London all together. The question of why she’d found him so repugnant continued to plague him, but he’d find no answers here.

  “Come. Let’s find Mother, make our excuses, and call for the carriage. There’s no need to chance her having a relapse, nor her illness spreading to you.”

  A spike of fear thrust through him at the thought of Lady Barbara having retired from the field due to illness, his response all out of proportion to his interest. Surely a curiosity, some slight mystery, could not have claimed his attention quite so fiercely?

  Just then, his gaze swept over a familiar face, though he didn’t at first recognize it. “Isn’t that the young gentleman you danced with at the Mackeley’s ball?”

  Isabella spun to follow his direction, her eagerness heartening. Though she ducked her head when the particular gentleman noticed her interest, Aubrey detected the hint of a smile on her lips.